A dashing girl, a gallant boy.

Page (1/3)

“Yanggong, your hand has stopped moving. It’s fine to take a break, but you’ve been frozen in that pose for twenty minutes now.”

“Eh~~~ But I’m so tired already. Why are there so many documents to deal with?”

Tsukimi Jinguuji glanced at the small creature sitting beside him. “Instead of complaining, you could be getting more done.”

“Unbelievable! Even you, senpai, are helping the president bully me.”

“What’s your standard for bullying?”

“Anyone who disobeys my orders is bullying me,” Yanggong declared solemnly.

Naturally, her head received a gentle knock from Tsukimi Jinguuji.

“If you lay hands on someone, that’s actual bullying,” she protested.

“This is a wake-up technique I learned back home. It works wonders against drowsiness.”

Yanggong stood up in protest. “You’re making that up!”

Tsukimi Jinguuji pointed at her irate expression and shot a smug look at Morino Hoshino. “See? I said it was effective.”

As the hour of leaving school drew near, the group cleaned up the student council room. While tidying the bookshelf, Yanggong noticed one of the cabinets had been locked tight.

“President, what do you keep in this locked cabinet?” she asked, pointing at it.

“That one? It holds records processed by previous student councils. We only open it near the end of each term.

“We store away unused documents from the current council. Supposedly, it’s piled up nearly seven or eight years’ worth. By the next council changeover, it’ll probably be full.”

“Oh.”

Her interest vanished. Even her once-curious gaze dulled, tinged with mild disdain. Now, whenever she heard words like “records” or “documents,” her head throbbed as if Tsukimi Jinguuji’s hand was constantly pressing down on her crown.

Once cleaning was done, the four left school together. They passed a few lingering members of the sports clubs, who watched them with curious eyes.

“Yamada, since then, have you encountered anything like that again?” Morino Hoshino suddenly remembered something and whispered to Yamada Kanade beside her.

“Mm… Thanks to the president, nothing like that has happened again. I really appreciate your concern.” Yamada Kanade scratched his cheek shyly. His features were so delicate that, if not for his boys’ uniform, he could easily be mistaken for a girl from afar.

High school is a truly baffling age. Any little difference from oneself or the norm becomes a source of giddy ridicule.

But Yamada Kanade thought this had nothing to do with age. At any stage of life, there are people who frighten and people who radiate kindness. Defining them by age alone would be unfair.

At least, he knew for certain that gentle people did exist around him.

“That’s good to hear. If anything happens, promise me you’ll tell me,” Morino Hoshino said with a warm smile.

“Thank you, president.”

Page (2/3)

Tsukimi Jinguuji and Yanggong walked ahead. Though he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, Morino Hoshino’s conversation with Yamada Kanade drifted into the boy’s ears.

“Hey, senpai,” Yanggong suddenly said beside him.

“What is it?”

“Can I take a break from tomorrow morning’s inspection?”

Tsukimi Jinguuji raised an eyebrow and, imitating her weekend tone, teased, “Are you scared?”

“Hmph.” She snorted and then showed a slightly dejected look.

“When I went back to class this morning, everyone still treated me like the class mascot. I don’t mind being a mascot, but I really do want to do the student council work seriously.

“But no one cares about that. They’re all saying things like ‘Yao-chan is amazing,’ ‘Yao-chan is incredible.’

“It’s as if I’d traced my name in hiragana in the sand at the park, only for grown-ups to praise me with laughter for being so clever.

“Ah, but I don’t mean I dislike my classmates. It’s just… I feel a bit dissatisfied.”

“Dissatisfied?”

“If I were tall and imposing like President Morino Hoshino, maybe they’d treat me differently even if I did the same things.”

“To start, I think ‘imposing’ isn’t quite right—at least, not the ‘imposing’ part,” the boy corrected.

Yanggong pondered. “Then just ‘tall’.”

“Tall,” Tsukimi Jinguuji affirmed.

The small creature’s eyes widened in surprise at this side of him.

“Senpai, you’re so gross.”

Tsukimi Jinguuji pretended to raise a hand, prompting Yanggong to dash ahead a few steps.

He withdrew his hand and slipped it into his pocket, speaking slowly: “What I mean is, you’re never going to have President Morino’s build.”

“Even if that’s true, I’m really about to get angry.”

“But you don’t need to be someone else, do you? At least, I don’t think you should try to become someone you’re not. No one can become another person.

“Have you seen ‘Haikyuu!!’?”

“Mm… I have. Why are we suddenly talking about manga?”

“Hinata is short, right? Of course he feels frustrated when people call him short, but he never tries to become someone completely different.

“I’m not a Jump-series protagonist,” she muttered.

“But it’s cool, isn’t it? I think you’re pretty cool, Yanggong.”

Page (3/3)

Yanggong was dumbfounded, craning her neck to look at Tsukimi Jinguuji in disbelief. “Cool? Me?”

“This morning, you called out to Iwasaki and the others without hesitation. That was pretty cool.”

“Iwasaki? Who’s that?” Yanggong tilted her head in confusion.

“Uh… Remember that Shibuya-style gyaru?”

“The one showing cleavage?”

“Yes, those girls.”

“I vaguely remember.”

“If you hadn’t stopped them first, I don’t know if I would have intervened myself. So, really, I should thank you.”

“Senpai, are you afraid of those people?”

“Not exactly afraid—more like, I just don’t want to have any dealings with them.”

Yanggong made a vague sound of understanding. After a moment, she suddenly burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hehe, getting praised for being cool by senpai makes me happier than I imagined.”

Tsukimi Jinguuji couldn’t help but laugh. “Will you rest tomorrow, then?”

“Of course not! I can’t let senpai look down on me!” hands on her hips, the girl was full of pride.

“I see.”

“Hey, senpai.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What is it?”

She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Actually, senpai, you’re pretty cool too.”

Tsukimi Jinguuji thought for a moment. “…This morning?”

“Puhaha… Who knows! Let’s go home!”

The petite girl, backpack slung over her shoulder, dashed down the long hill, her cheerful laughter carried away by the wind, vanishing into the quiet autumn dusk.